


Impossible Things

by AprylStorm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Alice in Wonderland Fusion, Crack, Crazy Castiel (Supernatural), Crossover, Team Free Will (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2020-12-24 12:24:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 2,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AprylStorm/pseuds/AprylStorm
Summary: Once again, Dean finds himself in an impossible situation. Faced with a challenge too crazy to be real, he tries to find a way back home. But can he rely on the help of a madman, or should he try to brave this strange land alone?AKA: What would happen if Dean was lost in Wonderland?





	1. The Fall

“DEAN!”

Dean turns to face the glare aimed his way, smirking at the irritated tone before laying back in the grass. With a flourish, he adds a little more umph to his air-drum solo, boosting the volume of his poor beat-boxing sound effects.

“Dean, I swear I will hurt you.”

“Nope. Hurting me would mean leaving your books, and we both know that’s not gonna happen for at least a few more hours.” Dean shakes his head with a dramatic sigh. “Why did I end up with such a nerd for a little brother? We’re only out here for the weekend, Sammy. We could be hunting right now! Or fishing. Or raiding the kitchen, cause I know for a fact that mom was baking something with apples when we left. Maybe it was pie!”

With a long-suffering sigh, Sam once again looks up from where he is propped against his tree over to the sprawled heap that is his brother. Sam scowls again before turning back to his exam study guides, bracing an elbow on his knee and holding a hand up to rest over his brow, blocking the view of his brother’s antics.

Dropping his hands to the grass, Dean takes a slow, deep breath before blowing a noisy raspberry.

"FOR THE LOVE OF…”

“Alright, fine! I’ll stop.” Dean jumps up and moves to rest against the tree next to his brother.

After two long minutes of silence, a flash of movement catches Dean’s attention. But when he turns to look, the only thing he can see are trees and their cabin in the distance. Deciding it was just light filtering through the branches, Dean leans back against the tree for a nap. But just before he can close his eyes, another flash of something has him shifting forwards to scan the woods for whatever it was. And when he’s finally able to spot the source of the movement, his jaw drops. He wipes at his eyes to clear the presumed hallucination.

“Sammy?”

"No.”

“No, wait. Just look...”

“No! I’m busy.”

Quickly giving up on getting his brother’s attention, Dean hauls himself up before running to follow the movement. Chasing after it, it doesn’t take him long to catch up enough to get a good look at the creature. And when he does, the shock almost has him face-planting into the dirt.

Seeing a black rabbit wearing a tan waistcoat and a flash of gold around his neck may not have been the craziest thing he’s ever seen, but it was crazy enough to slow his run enough for the rabbit to dash ahead of him.

Dean knows he isn’t in the best shape he could be in, but he doesn’t care much for eating leaves like Sam does. And while he is reasonably active, his sweet tooth offsets any amount of cardio he gets through the week. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to run for very long. A short distance later, the rabbit dashes out of sight by ducking through a gap in a fallen tree trunk.

“The hell?” He cautiously approaches the fallen tree. When nothing attached or jumps out at him, Dean inches closer to peer inside the tree.

_I’ve officially lost my mind. This is 100% the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. As if I actually saw a dressed up rabbit running around in the woods…_

_What the fuck is that?_

Leaning through the tree’s opening, he can barely see something shimmer from the minimal sunlight making it down into the hollow. Thinking back to the rabbit, he thinks it may be the golden whateverthefuck the rabbit was carrying.

_Well, shit. The poor fucker is stuck, isn’t he? Tried to find a place to hide and picked the one tree with a hole that looks deep enough to kill somebody._

“Please don’t bite me, please don’t bite me, please don’t bite me…” Whispering the repeating plea, he grabs the tree’s entryway with one hand and leans further in to reach for the rabbit. His fingers brush against a piece of fabric that is just out of reach, so with a grunt he lowers himself to his stomach and strains to get a hold of enough material to pull the rabbit back up to safety. Just as his fingers close around a corner of the cloth, his wooden handhold gives way.

And Dean falls.


	2. The Landing

It is amazing how much can happen in just a few seconds.

One second; Dean’s knee-jerk reaction to pitching forwards is to grab the first thing in reach to try and keep from falling, which happens to be the fabric he had been reaching for in the first place. Unsurprisingly, the fabric can’t hold his bodyweight, and at the first tug is pulled free of the root it had been snagged on.

Three seconds; Dean’s next reaction is to throw his arms out in front of himself to keep his face from colliding with the ground on impact. But as the seconds continue to tick by, Dean continues to fall.

Seven seconds; he has a delirious thought that maybe he was cursed to fall forever. Never hitting the bottom and never finding a way to stop. _And would that really be so bad? Yea, not the best, but that’s better than becoming a human pancake or ending up skewered on jagged rocks, right?_

Nine seconds; Dean cuts off that thought before those morbid mental pictures could form. He takes a deep breath and tries to focus on everything around him. The fading smell of the forest, the feel of the cloth clutched tightly in his hand, the wind whipping against his face, the growing scent of fresh water, the rustling of his clothes, the… _wait just a fucking second! Water?!_

Not that he spares the math a thought, but he knows that with ten seconds of falling he has already plummeted well over a thousand feet. No matter what he lands on, ground or water, he is in for a world of hurt.

Just as Dean closes his eyes and starts to mentally brace himself for the possibility of not making it out of this alive, he feels something clamp his shoulder in a burning grip and yank him backwards, not completely stopping his fall but slowing him enough that it may be possible to survive the landing.

Dean turns to look at the thing gripping his shoulder just as he hits the water.

And his vision goes dark.


	3. The Waking

Waking up with a jolt of panic at the sound of a bomb is never a favorite way to wake. With a scream, arms flailing and legs kicking to fend off an attacker, Dean jolts upright. It takes his still sleepy mind a few seconds to take in his surroundings, and even then he can’t quite believe his eyes.

Peering across the darkening horizon does not show Bobby’s cabin hidden through the tree line. He can’t see the tree Sam was studying under, or the shed his dad would be working on the Impala, or the garden mom may be harvesting for tonight’s family supper. As far as he can see, he’s somehow landed (quite literally) in the middle of nowhere and stranded on an empty beach just before sunset.

_What the fuck?_

Realizing his arms are still raised in defense, he drops his hands to his lap before hissing in surprise at the sting the movement causes his shoulder. With a wince, Dean peels off his shirts, straining his neck to see what the problem is. He almost regrets looking as soon as he sees the raised welts over his skin, clearly in the shape of a handprint.

A flash of light precedes another bomb going off overhead, startling Dean into movement. He grabs his shirts before standing, running away from the creeping waves and another loud bang. Sprinting to the trees for cover, he stops once he feels safe enough for a better look around.

Now that he is fully awake and aware, he notices lights in the distance far down the shore. Maybe it is a city? Another flash and bang mostly confirms that thought, as what seems to be fireworks are slowly set off. Only… that can’t be fireworks, can it? Dean takes a tentative step closer to the beach, peering out from the surrounding greenery for a better view of the sky.

Another flash, followed by another bang. Another flash, and Dean is 87% sure that this isn’t fireworks. With the sun already set and darkness growing, he can’t quite make out exactly what is causing the spectacle, but he’s pretty certain he caught a glimpse of wings.

Deciding he doesn’t really care, Dean turns to trek through the woods only to come face to face with the bluest eyes he’s ever seen.

And he _DID NOT_ squeal or flinch, thank you very much. 


	4. The Meeting

After landing on his ass in a scramble to regain some personal space, Dean shuffles back from the sudden appearance of Blue Eyes. With a few feet between them, Dean stands and brushes the back of his jeans off, keeping a cautious eye on the stranger.

Blue Eyes doesn’t move. He just watches as Dean fumbles to straighten himself out, head cocked to the side with a studious gaze.

Dean takes another step back when Blue Eyes leans forwards to pick up the shirts Dean had dropped. He separates Dean’s shirts from a garment Dean hadn’t noticed before. The shirts are tossed to Dean, who catches them without looking away from the other man.

Dean can almost _feel_ the lightbulb go off when Blue Eyes swings the garment behind him to pull it on. “That’s a trench coat.” It sounded more like an accusation than a question, but Dean wasn’t going to apologize. The stranger stops adjusting the coat to study him again before looking down at himself. “Yes, this is a trench coat.”

“I think I was holding it when I fell. Under the tree.” Dean narrows his eyes at the other man, wracking his brain trying to understand how he went from point A to B to _here_.

Blue Eyes nods solemnly. “Yes. You brought it with you. Though the next time you visit, make sure to ask for a guide _before_ bursting in. I almost didn’t make it to you before you landed, and I would have wasted a whole day to repair you.”

Dean blinked at the man, waiting for him to laugh at the weird joke or give an actual answer. When Blue Eyes continues to stare back, Dean thinks back through the response trying to understand what was going on. When nothing remotely resembling a sane answer, he shakes his head. “Nope. None of that made any sense. Wanna try that again in English, buddy?”


	5. The Visitor

It was Blue Eyes’ turn to blink in confusion before squinting at Dean suspiciously. “What do you not understand?”

Dean glares back, “_What do I not understand_? Really? Okay, well, let’s start with the basic ‘Where the hell am I’, ‘How the hell did I get here’, and ‘Who the fuck are you?’”

Blue Eyes once again cocks his head to study Dean. “You seem frustrated.” Dean throws his hand up and turns to leave, planning to try to find a way to reach the city he noticed from the beach. Clearly this guy isn’t going to be much help…

“Heaven, gateway, Castiel.” Dean stops to glance over his shoulder. The stranger still hadn’t moved. “What?” “Answers to your questions. Heaven, gateway, Castiel.” The man nods as if he just imparted the answer to the universe. 

Dean blinked, once again completely confused. “Okay. So… a lot to unpack there. Alright, then. You’re telling me that _this place_ is Heaven? And I got here by falling through a gate?” Blue Eyes nods in response.

“What’s a Castiel?” “I am. Castiel is my name.” Of all the things he has heard in the last five minutes, that shouldn’t be what Dean gets stuck on. He takes a deep breath to clear his head and runs a hand through his hair, looking out over the beach and weighing his options. _Alright, then. This is clearly a dream. I fell down the hole and hit my head, and now I’ve just got to wait until I wake up._

“You are not dreaming.” Dean flinches back from the suddenly _way to close_ voice of the other man, who apparently decided that personal space was overrated. As he takes a step back, he holds an arm out between them as if expecting the stranger to follow his retreat. “Woah, buddy. There’s no need to breathe each other’s air.” Dean froze as he registered what the man just said. “...Who said anything about dreaming?”


	6. The Decision

“...Who said anything about dreaming?” Dean has had his fair share of fear. Like the time he hit black ice during a drive down south. Or like the time his mom almost caught him in a compromising position with a very bendy blonde. But the tension flooding through his veins now is a step past fear. It was panic.

The stranger still didn’t move. “No one said it.”

Dean waited, clearly expecting more of an answer. But the stranger merely glanced around, “Did you bring any burgers?”

Dean slowly lowered his arm, confusion clear on his face. “...What?”

“Burgers. Did you bring any hamburgers with you? They make me happy, and it has been quite a long while since I have had one. It is nearly impossible to get them here.”

Dean takes a breath, slowly taking another step back to really study the stranger. Blue Eyes appears normal - questionable fashion sense, stares too much, talks nonsense - but still human.

Dean _knows_ that mindreading isn’t a real thing. He _knows_ that he fell down a hole and somehow ended up in Crazyland. He _knows_ this can’t be real, so it _must_ be a dream.

Dean shakes his head a bit, glancing back at the man to find him waiting patiently for Dean to respond.

“Okay, so, as fun and exciting as this has been, I think I’m just gonna sit here until I wake up.” He moves to the nearest tree to sit and lean back against it, crossing his arms over his chest.

Blue Eyes just blinks at him. “So, no burgers?”

Dean can’t help but to roll his eyes at the stranger’s disappointed tone. “No, dude. I didn’t grab any burgers on my way out of the house this morning. But I’ll be sure to bring a few with me the next time I visit.”

“Thank you, Dean.” Dean just shook his head at the sincerity in the man’s voice. Note to self: Blue Eyes doesn’t understand sarcasm. Good to know.


	7. The Choice

“May we go now?”

Dean opens his eye to look back at the man. “Pardon?”

_Dude, give this guy a medal for that confused head-tilt. If he stares at me any harder, I’d think he could see straight through me._

If anything, Blue Eyes’ state intensifies. “May we go? As this is your first visit, I would prefer us walk rather than fly. But if we do not start our journey soon, we will most certainly be late. Also, my name is Castiel.”

Once again, Dean blinked at the man before deciding that, since this is clearly a dream, his best bet would be to play along. There is no reason to upset the crazy guy and risk getting mauled, even if it is just a dream. Nightmares are never a fun way to wake up, after all.

Mind made up, Dean signed loudly before slowly getting to his feet, brushing the dirt off his backside before resting his hands on his hips. “Alright, Castiel.” Dean couldn’t stop his smirk when his exaggerated drawl causes Castiel’s eyes to squint at him even further. “Since you are the man with a plan, let’s hear it. Where are we going?”

Without a word, Castiel turns to walk just outside the tree line. With an exasperated huff and an eye roll for good measure, Dean followed him.


End file.
